


Sitting in the Window Sill (waiting for you)

by Artpressing



Series: Shards [1]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, M/M, Multiverse, Parallel Universes, Science Fiction, Weird Fluff, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7239448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artpressing/pseuds/Artpressing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Brendon can travel interdimensionally and is in love with Spencer. Or Spencers.</p><p>Or: Where everything is confusing, Brendon is from an alternative universe, but Spencer is still Spencer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sitting in the Window Sill (waiting for you)

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Bioshock.

When you can open a window, stepping through it and never turning back is not always the best decision, but sometimes you just have to. Like when you are not in the right place, when you can't find what you're looking for or when you have nowhere else to go.

And Brendon knows this.

His head is a mess, full of memories, names, places, and… And Spencer.  
In all honesty, Brendon had no idea why he was seeking out different versions of Spencer James Smith in alternative universes. Well…. He knows one thing for sure. He’s in love with Spencer. He doesn’t know how, or since when, or since which universe.  
He has some broken, foggy memories of him, from the universe he originally came from, the universe that collapsed and ceased to exist.  
The only sure thing from that one is Spencer, but he was notes about other things, things that are never the same in other universes, things that explain certain things, like why he knows so much about quantum physics, or that he went to college instead of being in a band, or when is Ryan’s birthday, or this version of him is vegetarian, and he shouldn’t eat meat even if the other Brendons he meets do.  
He doesn’t remember these things. He doesn’t remember writing them down either. But it’s his handwriting, and he know he is (was?) smart enough to note a couple memories for himself, so he won’t forget, if his home universe gets completely erased from his brain.

He’s been traveling for a while. He has no idea how long, the notes never mention it.  
He opens window after window, leaps from universe to universe without thinking, taking notes of different lives (and different Spencers) he could’ve had.  
It’s not new for him, and he knows this because it feels natural to him, not because the notes say so.

He casually writes Spencer #92 on the last page of his notebook before opening the window in front of him. He jumps through, then slowly closes it.  
He finds himself in an empty bedroom.  
The beds is a mess and the sheets are as white as the walls and everything else, but despite the lack of colors the room itself looks lived in and smells like Spencer.  
(He doesn't want to think about how crazy knowing the Spencer-smell makes him)  
There’s a photo on the bedside table and Brendon turns to look at it. It’s a photo of Spencer and one of his sisters. (Her name starts with a C, but he doesn’t remember it. It's probably in the notes somewhere.)

There’s a sound of shattering glass behind his back, and when he turns around he is standing face-to-face with Spencer himself.  
He’s wearing a black t-shirt and pajama pants, his sandy blond hair is a mess. His eyes are wide from shock and he spilled milk all over himself but even like this he looks stunning for Brendon.  
“Hi” he says, with an easy smile, hoping that he’s in one of the universes where Spencer knows him. Or...Another version of him. Whichever.  
“You are real. And you are in my bedroom.” Spencer states. _And What. That’s actually new, no one questioned his existence before._  
Brendon blinks at him.  
“Why wouldn’t I be?”  
“Why would you be? I had these weird dreams about you for years. I’ve seen you die handful of times. In my dreams. And now. You are here. In my bedroom. You can’t be real.”  
_Wow. This Spencer deserves a lot of notes._  
“Huh. This is interesting.” Brendon plops down on the bed and pats the space beside him. “Here. Sit. I won’t bite and you can touch me to make sure I’m real.”  
Spencer looks terrified, but sits down anyway. (As far from Brendon as he can)  
“So, uh, what do you know about parallel universes?”  
Spencer doesn’t say anything, probably because he is still trying to progress the fact that the guy from his nightmares is actually sitting beside him. Brendon let’s out a long breath and continues. He had already explained this to at least 50 Spencers. He can totally do it again.  
“Every time someone makes a decision, or something happens there are multiple possibilities. Each possibility starts a new branch, a different universe. Do you remember when you dropped that glass? There is a universe where you didn’t. Or an universe where there was no glass to begin with.  
I can travel between these alternative universes. Sort of. It’s pretty cool.  
We probably haven’t met in this one before, but I’ve seen 91 other universes and we met in 87... I mean other you and other me met before I jumped in.”  
Brendon let’s his words sink in and reaches for Spencer's hand and squeezes it.  
“We are connected, or something. I haven’t seen a universe you weren’t part of, and I’m sure it’s because-”

Spencer cuts him off with a “You are insane, get out of my house.”

_It could be worse._

“You are trying to make me believe that you are stalking me in 92 universes, because you think we have some weird sci-fi bond? How do I know if you didn’t just climb in my window?”  
_Spencer Smith, logical and stubborn as ever._  
“Technically, I did.”

Spencer sighs and glares at him. “I should call the police, you know.”  
Brendon shakes his head and gestures toward the window.  
“Let me show you something. If you don’t believe me after that I’ll leave and you can go back to sleep and have weird nightmares about me.”

He steps in front of the window and puts his hand on the wooden frame. He closes his eyes, concentrates and opens the window. On the other side, one of the famous Brendons is having coffee with a Spencer. (More specifically Spencer #54, no beard, plays guitar instead of drums and his hands are too big.)  
Brendon closes the window, and opens another one. Then another. And he keeps going, until the Spencer in the room says stop. The next time he opens the window it’s not leading to another universe, and he leaves it open to let in some fresh air.  
They both need it. Especially him. He feels lightheaded, and he can feel his heart beating a million miles per hour.  
After moments of awkward and heavy silence Spencer speaks up.  
“Is this...Is this healthy? Doing that, I mean. You look pale.”  
Not the question Brendon expected, but he can roll with it.  
He shrugs.  
“I might have to sit down for a couple minutes.” Or for an hour. The room is spinning. Spencer offers to bring him some water, while he curls up on the bed. He falls asleep before he could say anything.

When he opens his eyes, Spencer is sitting across the room in one of the chairs, cross legged, staring at him.

“You snore. And you always snore in my dreams. Is that really you? Am I seeing different versions of you each time?”  
“Yes. No. Probably. I just woke up, can't you like, wait for ten minutes? Besides, the other Spencers didn't have these dreams. I don't know how it works.”  
Brendon pulls one of the pillows on his head and turns his back to Spencer.  
“Is your name really Brendon?”  
“Yepp”  
Spencer huffs in acknowledgement and Brendon drifts back into sleep.  
When he wakes up for the second time Spencer keeps bombing him with questions of the same caliber.  
The answer is always yes.  
Spencer knows him like the back of his hand and he's probably asking all that bullshit for fun.  
“Okay, I'm pretty sure the dude you've been dreaming about is me. Like, this me. Kind of. You've seen things that could've happened to me, but didn't. Have we met in any of them before?”  
“Yes. But you never stayed.”  
He looks at his feet, then back at Brendon.  
“Please stay..? It's a bit weird for me, but I've theoretically known you for years, and-”  
Brendon shuts him up with a kiss.  
And damn, this Spencer is an amazing kisser. And he's amazing in general, because he's Brendon's Spencer.

He stays.

**Author's Note:**

> This thing here has a bunch of different things to it...  
> Well, a bunch of Spencers.  
> I'm planning to write those as well.  
> Mostly because half of the backstory is missing.  
> I'm posting this because want to test the idea, see if someone likes it.


End file.
